


A Voice in the Darkness

by Duck_Life



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Episode: s04e24 The Mind's Eye, Friendship, Gen, Holodecks/Holosuites, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Alteration, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:06:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21689566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duck_Life/pseuds/Duck_Life
Summary: Geordi tries to figure out why he heard a familiar voice when the Romulans were conditioning him.
Relationships: Geordi La Forge & Deanna Troi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31





	A Voice in the Darkness

“When last we spoke, you told me that you remembered the Romulans capturing you and taking you on board their ship,” Counselor Troi says, a cup of hot chocolate held aloft in her hand. Steam curls off the rim of the cup. Geordi tries to focus on the real, real,  _ real _ feeling of the arms of the chair beneath him, the sound of Deanna’s humidifier whirring in the corner, the smell of that hot chocolate wafting toward him. “Do you remember what happened next?”

Sure he remembers. He remembers ordering a Risan mai-tai and adjusting the setting on his lounge chair so he could sit up enough to drink it. The cocktail waitress told a joke about the ancient plastic straws they used to use on Earth. The mai-tai was sweet, sweet, sweet. 

“The Romulans… they dragged me into a room,” Geordi says. “There were… they strapped me into a chair.” 

“Did you struggle?”

“I… I…” The sun on his face. A cold drink in his hands, hands, hands on his arms and head, forcing him into a chair and strapping him down and holding him, trapping him, keeping him there but he needed to  _ leave _ , needed to run and get away and be somewhere else be safe be— “Yeah. Yes. I struggled.” 

“Do you remember how you felt?” Deanna asks.

Geordi shudders. “Helpless. Afraid. Useless.”

“You were outnumbered,” she points out. “None of this is your  _ fault _ , Geordi.”

“I know that,” he snaps. This whole ordeal has left him volatile and short-tempered, anxious, angry, stressed, he could really use a vacation, maybe he should go back to Risa he had a nice time on Risa had such a nice time when he was on Risa— “I just… I hate this,” he says in a small voice.

Deanna leans forward and puts a hand over his hand. “I know,” she says. He reminds himself that she  _ does _ know. She’s feeling this, too, his own frustration, his feelings of violation are seeping out of him like a toxin and leaching into his empathic friend’s feelings. It isn’t fair. “What happened next?”

He thinks, trying to ignore the thrumming of his pulse. “They had another me,” he remembers. “A duplicate. The duplicate went to Risa. I didn’t go to Risa. I never went to Risa.”

“That’s right.”

“They took my VISOR,” Geordi goes on. “They said they wanted to show me something.”

“How—?”

“A device,” he says, his mouth dry. “They could tap into my visual cortex directly. They could… could show me things.” His face feels hot.  _ His galvanic skin response has increased nine percent. _ His hands shake. 

“Geordi.”

“Mm?”

“What did they show you?” 

The chair beneath him is real. Deanna is real. Remember that, he tells himself, remember that. “Pain,” he says, his voice trembling. “People in pain. People being tortured.  _ Children _ …” He swallows roughly and realizes with a start that there are tears streaming down his cheeks. Geordi shoves his VISOR up so he can wipe his eyes. Safe. Real. Deanna. “I saw people being ripped apart, Deanna,” he says hoarsely. “And I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t stop seeing it.”

“It’s okay—”

“It’s  _ not _ okay,” Geordi shouts, jumping to his feet. The room is shaking— or maybe that’s him. He can taste Risan rum and he can see the faces of children screaming as their arms are wrenched from their— “Can we be done?” Geordi asks in a small voice. 

“For today,” Deanna says, looking up at him sympathetically. 

* * *

  
  


At their next session, Deanna asks Geordi to pick up where he left off. “They were showing me… The Romulan scientist, Taibak, he called them horrors,” Geordi says. He’s struggling to keep his voice level. His fingernails curl into the palm of his hand. This is real. The danger has passed, and Chief O’Brien is okay, and this is real. “Made me see what he wanted me to see.” 

“And then?” 

“There was somebody else in the room with us,” Geordi says. “Two other Romulans. A woman…” His head jerks up. “I need… I need to make it. I need to recreate it. On the holodeck.” He stands. “Will you come with me?”

“Of course,” Deanna says. 

* * *

“Computer, a chair,” Geordi says. The holodeck provides him with one. “Less comfortable,” Geordi says. “High-backed, arms, restraints. Around the wrists, and… and the head.” He walks around the chair, deep in thought. “Create a Romulan crewman standing right… here,” he says, indicating the spot with his foot. “And here. A simulation of the Romulan officer Taibak.” The computer complies. 

Geordi sits in the chair, gripping the arms tightly. He does not try to engage the restraints, but he does take off his VISOR. He didn’t see the room he’s trying to recreate, not exactly. He got a quick look when they dragged him in, but for the most part he’d had to rely on his ears. “By the wall,” he murmurs, trying to remember the voice.  _ How will we be certain the procedure has been successful? _

His memory skips and jumps and skids.  _ Will there be any physical evidence of what you are doing to him? _ That voice. 

_ Hailing frequencies open.  _

_ Hailing frequencies closed.  _

_ This is crazy. I was at the colony where I grew up, being chased by a rape gang.  _

A figure on the other side of the room.  _ How will we be certain the procedure has been successful?  _

_ Hailing frequencies closed hailing frequencies closed hailing frequencies closed hailing frequencies closed Geordi in those moments I felt the most despair you took my hand and helped me to see things differently you taught me to look beyond the moment hailing frequencies _

“Computer,” Geordi gasps, hands curled into fists, “bring up a facsimile of Tasha Yar.” He hears the new addition materialize, but he does not put his VISOR on to look. “I need to hear her voice.”

A moment while the computer pulls up an example. And then, as if the real Tasha Yar were standing right there:  _ Security chief’s log stardate 41242.45. We have brought back a disassembled android from Omicron Theta. While his appearance mirrors Lieutenant Commander Data’s, we have no way of knowing his capabilities or his motives. My team is prepared to take action should the need arise. Our CMO and chief engineer are— _

“Stop, stop,” Geordi says. A small part of him notes that Deanna seems to be exercising extraordinary restraint in not questioning what he’s doing right now. “I need to hear her say the sentence: ‘How will we be certain the procedure has been successful?’” 

The Tasha hologram repeats it. “How will we be certain the procedure has been successful?” 

Geordi’s bones feel like ice. “That’s it,” he murmurs, to himself, to Deanna, to the computer. “That’s her. That’s… that’s…”

“Geordi, what are you saying?” Deanna asks. 

“It was her,” Geordi says. “I don’t know how, but… Tasha was there. She was in the room with me, Deanna.” 

He hears Deanna click her tongue, contemplating. “Geordi,” she says finally, “sometimes when we experience traumatic events, we attach other memories to them as a way of—”

“No, no, I’m not,” he says, stumbling over his words because he needs to make her understand, needs to make her see. “I know I’m confused and messed up, but  _ this _ I’m sure of. I heard Tasha Yar’s voice.” 

Silence. And then— “Okay,” Deanna says. “I believe you.”

“How could I have heard her voice?” Geordi wonders, sitting back farther in the chair. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Do you remember what else you heard… Tasha… say?” Deanna prompts.

He rubs his temples, white eyes staring sightlessly ahead. “Counselor,” Geordi says finally, “I was… when all this happened, I wasn’t just  _ sitting _ here. I was strapped down.” 

“I know.”

“Can you…?” He doesn’t know how to ask for this. Part of him— hell, most of him— doesn’t want to. But the memories won’t come if he can’t put himself back in the situation exactly. It’s like staring through frosted glass, trying to make out the shadows on the other side. He needs to remember. “Restrain me. Please.”

“I don’t think that would be helpful,” Deanna says, walking closer to him. 

“The memories are… are locked in my head,” Geordi says. “I  _ know _ it sounds impossible but if Tasha is out there… if she’s… I mean, what if? What if they did to her what they tried to do to me, and she’s some brainwashed Romulan assassin? What if we can help her?”

“Geordi,” Deanna says, and he can hear the waver in her voice. “We all loved Tasha. But she’s gone. You saw her body. Whatever you think you heard—”

“I’m not saying I’m convinced she’s alive,” Geordi argues. “I don’t… I don’t know what I’m saying. But I know I won’t be able to sleep tonight if I don’t get to the bottom of this. Deanna,  _ please _ .” 

He can practically hear her thinking, can hear the lines between counselor and crewmate and friend tangling in her head. Finally, Deanna steps closer and puts her hands on his arms. “I’ll be right here,” she promises, and she engages the restraints. 

Geordi takes in a shaky breath, then two. “Computer,” he says, “play back the scene as I’ve reconstructed it, from… from ‘I am sorry, Commander.’”

The hologram of Taibak springs to life. “I am sorry, Commander. It is a necessary step,” the hologram says. “I apologize for your discomfort.” He turns to Tasha. “Here. Observe how a spring day on his native Earth affects him. He's looking at a beautiful meadow, green trees, birds, a blue sky. The heartbeat slows, the galvanic skin response drops.” 

Geordi remembers the sight of it now— springtime on Earth, not on Risa. The images they’d shown him. 

“The body responds to our stimuli. He is incapable of maintaining control of his own responses. Watch as I change the stimuli again.” Pain and suffering. He isn’t seeing it now, but he’s remembering it. Remembering watching people being flayed and maimed and brutalized, remembering the sight of a boy with half his face burned off, gasping for help. “Once our work is done, La Forge will act normally, totally unaware of his conditioning. The perfect tool for our purpose.” 

Tasha speaks from the other side of the holodeck. “Will there be any physical evidence of what you are doing to him?” 

“None, Commander. That is why we chose La Forge. The utilisation of his pre-existing neural implants makes our work impossible to detect.” Lucky him. 

“How will we be certain the procedure has been successful?” Tasha again. Why was she there? How could she have been there? 

“I will program him to perform a series of specific tests, both before he leaves us and after he returns to the Enterprise. We'll be able to verify his effectiveness,” Taibak says. “Notice that his heart rate has slowed somewhat. He is becoming accustomed to the horrors he is witnessing. So, we change horrors.” 

And he remembers this, too— the horrors they had shown him. A woman on fire, her skin blistering and blackening as she screams without sound, and suddenly he is five years old again and trapped behind a wall of heat and smoke, screaming for his mother, suddenly he is helpless and the Romulans have him and his security chief is just standing there watching. 

“Tasha, please,” Geordi cries out, thrashing against the metal restraints binding him to the chair. As he shouts, he realizes with sudden clarity that he did the same thing before. The memories come rushing back. 

_ “Tasha, please,” Geordi screams, and Taibak sounds intrigued by the new development.  _

_ “I wonder where he thinks he is,” Taibak says.  _

_ His superior clicks her tongue. “La Forge is out of his mind,” she declares, and if there is a note of uncertainty in her voice, Taibak ignores it. “Push him further.” _

They are going to show him more, to crack open his skull and pour in the most horrible images imaginable, force him to endure it all until it changes him, until he is a puppet for the Romulans to control, a gun to be pointed at whomever they choose, a pawn in— 

“Computer, remove restraints,” Geordi gasps. The restraints vanish. “Remove it. Remove all of it. Clear program.” The Romulans vanish. Tasha vanishes. The chair vanishes. “I was on Risa,” Geordi says. “I was on Risa. I remember being on Risa. I want to be on Risa.” 

Suddenly, there is sand and stone beneath his feet. He can feel the balmy air and smell the tang of suntan lotion and perfume and liquor. Geordi clicks his VISOR back into place. “I hate this,” he says. 

“I know you do,” Deanna says. She sounds as if she’s been crying, but when he turns to look, her eyes are dry. “I also know that you’re very brave. And that you are better than what they tried to make you do.”

“Why was Tasha there?”

“I don’t know,” Deanna says. “I don’t know how to explain it.” She takes Geordi’s hand, and in turn, he pulls her into a crushing hug, tucking his chin over her shoulder. “It’s okay,” she promises, patting him on the back. “You’re on the Enterprise. You’re safe. You didn’t hurt anybody. It’s okay.” Geordi shudders. She holds him tighter. “It’s okay.” 

* * *

  
  
  


Weeks later, the Enterprise is chugging along toward the El-Adrel system, the peril with the Romulans and the Klingon civil war overcome for the moment. Geordi finds himself back in the counselor's office. 

"How did it feel being Will's first officer?" she asks, smiling at him. 

"It was, ah, it was tricky. Stepping into that role," he tells her. "Definitely an interesting experience, but I was happy to get back to engineering."

"That makes sense," Deanna says. Then her face grows more serious. "I know word travels fast, so… I assume you heard about the… Romulan commander we were up against." When Deanna had first seen Commander Sela on the screen, it was like getting the wind knocked out of her. Once the crisis was over, Geordi was her first thought. 

"Yeah," Geordi says quietly. "Guinan told me."

"We're all very shaken up about it." 

"It actually makes things a little… clearer," he admits. "I mean, it's… I don't know. At least now I know I wasn't making stuff up."

“And… I hope you know that Tasha would never have hurt you.”

Geordi nods. “I always knew that,” he says. “I think I was just confused about it a little.” 

“That’s perfectly understandable.” Deanna folds her hands in her lap. “You’ve been back on active duty for almost a month now. Have you had any concerns?” 

“Well,” he says, “I guess… I mean, they were  _ controlling _ me. They could make me do anything. It feels good to finally figure out that piece of the puzzle— with Sela, I mean— but I still get this nagging sense that nothing I’m doing is of my own free will.”

“You should log your choices,” she suggests. “Spend time thinking about what you choose to eat and drink, where you choose to go during your breaks. Think about  _ why _ you like to do what you like to do. Take back your agency, your sense of self.” 

“I’ll try.”

“And that’s a choice right there,” she points out. 

Geordi glances at the time. “Mind if I head out? Data and I have a chess game scheduled. And he’s going to tell me about captaining the  _ Sutherland _ .” 

“Of course,” Deanna says. “Have fun. If you need anything—”

“I know.”

“Alright.” 

“Thank you, Counselor … For everything.” Geordi gets up and leaves. Deanna might be imagining it, but it looks like he’s holding his head a little higher, with his shoulders a little lighter, as though a weight had been lifted. 


End file.
